


Staking Claims

by fiacresgirl



Series: Summer of Sorrow [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Coping, F/M, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, PTSD, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7261270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiacresgirl/pseuds/fiacresgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver and Felicity take Baby Sara to the park and discuss what to do about their relationship and her pregnancy. (Set after season 4.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Staking Claims

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NorthwestDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwestDreamer/gifts).



> I wanted to play a little bit with Felicity confronting (even superficially) what it might mean to lose Oliver. I think internal conflict is very interesting, and jealousy can be very eye opening. I hope that I did this justice - if not, there's Baby Sara! 
> 
> This one is for [NorthwestDreamer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwestDreamer/pseuds/NorthwestDreamer) who doesn't mind internal struggle. Thanks for reading!

Felicity holds Sara’s hand as they cross the parking lot to the playground at the little park nearest their apartment. It would be easier to take the stroller, but Sara’s exploring her independence these days. In her other hand, Felicity has a picnic basket.

It’s a beautiful summer day and the sun is warm on her face. The ducks near the pond see them coming and waddle toward the water. “Quack,” Sara says. “Duck say quack.”  

“They do,” Felicity says. “Do you want to feed them now or later?”

“Me play now,” Sara says.

“We’re almost there. Do you want me to carry you?”

Sara shakes her head firmly. “Go self,” she says.

“Okay,” Felicity says. As they approach the sidewalk, Sara hears the sound of a motorcycle and turns, her face shining with excitement. “Uncaver!” she says.

Oliver rides up and parks in the narrow spaces near the playground. When he takes off his helmet, his hair glints in the sun. “Is that my big girl?” he asks. Sara shrieks and lifts her hands high, and Felicity has to hold her tightly until Oliver dismounts. When she lets Sara go, Oliver scoops her up in his arms and tosses her in the air.

“High!” Sara says. “Me go high!” She’s an adrenaline junkie like her parents, but Oliver would never drop her, so Felicity lets them enjoy themselves and walks over to the thick green grass that grows by the swingset. She puts the picnic basket down there, and peeks back over her shoulder at the pair of them.

Oliver is rooting around in the storage compartment of his bike. Sara pulls herself up and peers in over the edge. He pulls out two cups and hands one to Sara.

“Mango juuuice!” Sara says, taking the sippy cup from him and sucking on it.

“What do you say, Sara?” Felicity calls.

“Tank you,” Sara says automatically. She licks a bit of stray mango from her lip. Oliver puts his hand down, she grabs two of his fingers, and the two of them walk over to her. The second cup is for Felicity apparently because he holds it out. It’s a distressing shade of green.

“You don’t have to worry,” he says, “you won’t taste the kale. The strawberries mask it.”

Felicity takes a hesitant draw on the straw and discovers he’s right. It doesn’t taste like kale; it’s quite good.

Oliver magics another bottle out of thin air and sets it down in the grass. She squints to read the label and groans internally. Prenatal vitamins.

“I got you the gummy kind,” he says. “They should be easier to digest. You need to take two a day.”

She sighs. “I-I haven’t made my decision, you know,” she says. It’s been two weeks since she told him she was pregnant, but she’s no closer to deciding anything.

“I know, but you need the extra vitamins for you anyway. Pregnancy is hard on a woman’s body, and if I know you, your diet right now is...not high in calcium, iron, and folic acid, among other vitamins.”

She gapes at him. “Folic acid? Tell me you’re not going to fuss.”

“Tell me I don’t have to.”

“You don’t have to,” she says. “You really don’t.” She’s an adult woman, until very recently a CEO. She doesn’t need a babysitter.

He does not look convinced. “Okay. What have you eaten today?”

“I’ve eaten…” she takes another sip of her smoothie. It is still unbelievably tasty. “A kale smoothie. Very nutritious.”

“That’s cute,” he says.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Welcome,” Sara says, and fortunately that’s so adorable it breaks the tension between them.

Felicity looks down at the little girl. Her empty cup is on the ground. “Sara, do you need to go potty before we eat?”

Sara shakes her head. “No.”

“Are you sure? Because the bathroom is right over there. We can go and try.”

“No,” Sara says firmly and toddles over to the sandbox. Apparently that discussion is over.

“You’re already potty training her?” Oliver asks.

“Lyla wanted to try,” Felicity says.

“She’s not even two.”

“I told her that,” Felicity says, “but her friend Michelle recently adopted a little girl from China, and Evelyn arrived half trained. She’s barely one, so now Lyla is convinced Sara can learn since she’s almost a whole year older.”

“It seems early,” Oliver says.

“I suggested that perhaps our best parenting tips were maybe not taken from orphanages. They have a quantity over quality approach, you know? But Lyla says that we’re in the trenches, and all of us have to do our part, even Sara. So I told her I’d take point on this. There were a lot of military metaphors used.” She sits cross legged down on the grass and sets down her half-drunk smoothie. “I _will_ be glad when I don’t have to do diapers anymore. Have you ever changed them? It’s fairly disgusting.”

Oliver nods. “When Thea was a baby, I changed a few. Not many,” he admits. He gets a look in his eye. “I think I’d be good at it, though.”

“Well, you can change _all_ you wa--” Felicity says and then realizes his meaning. “Oh.” She does not allow herself to have that vision of Oliver with a tiny infant on his bare chest. No, she does not.

Sara walks back over. “Dump truck?” she asks.

Felicity opens the picnic basket, gives it to her, and Sara takes it back and pushes it through the sand. “Vvvvrooom.”

Oliver looks like he’s about to broach a serious discussion, so Felicity changes the subject. “I don’t think I’m going to go back to Palmer Tech.” She takes a purple blanket out of her basket and shakes it open.

“You’re not,” Oliver says.

“They didn’t appreciate me when they had me. I did a lot for that company, and then just because I had to put other priorities first for a few days, they fired me.”

Oliver sits down next to her. His eyes are gentle. “I’m not convinced it was the entire board.”

“Even if it was just Dennis, they rolled over for him,” Felicity says. “Spineless. Do they think tech geniuses grow on trees?” The blanket doesn’t lay entirely flat, so she lifts and shakes it out again.

“Do you have other plans for what you might do?” Oliver asks carefully.

“I think I’m going to start my own company,” Felicity says. “Smoak Technologies. I’m tired of working for a bunch of impatient people with no vision. If Dennis had waited longer or given me more of a chance to explain my decision making, that would be one thing…” She watches Sara turn the dump truck over and slam it into the sand repeatedly. She puts the little driver in the back of the dump truck and buries him in sand. Sara is a kindred spirit.

“So you know what you’d like to develop?” Oliver asks. She turns her attention back to him. He’s genuinely interested. She forgets sometimes how supportive he is.

“No, not specifics,” Felicity says, pulling Sara’s little pink plates out from the basket and laying them on the blanket, “but, you know me, I always have ideas.”

“You do,” Oliver says.

She sees Mr. Dennis’s face again in her mind, the smug look he wore when he had her escorted out of the building. She reaches for the smoothie and takes another long sip. “Do you _know_ what it feels like to invest yourself in something completely - _completely_ \- and then one day have someone come to you and say, ‘You’re not good enough. We’re done.’ Do you _know_ what that feels like?”

Oliver gives her a sharp look, and she realizes what she just said.  “Yes,” he says. The pained look in his eyes makes her catch her breath.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Of course…”

Oliver levers himself to his feet and walks over to Sara. She smiles and digs out the truck driver. “How about I push you on the swings?” he asks her.

She nods enthusiastically. “Wanna swing high!” She raises her hands over her head. “Big high!”

“Big high,” Oliver says. “Okay.” He picks her up, throws her up in the air again, catches her, and carries her over to the baby swings where he patiently guides her wiggly legs into the holes in the rubber seat. When he pushes her away from him and up into the air, Sara claps her hands in joy.

Felicity takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She knows she’s not at her best right now. Oliver must be getting tired of her moods and her self absorption. She hates that she’s hurting him. She really hates it. She’s spent the past three years trying to get him to see what a good man he is, and he _is_ a good man. But what can she do? She wants to forgive him. She wants to believe things work out in the end, but happy endings have been thin on the ground lately. How can she trust him not to let her down again?

So what is the point of these meetings in the park? Or their midnight visits? Wouldn’t it be easier on both of them if she just made a clean break?

Felicity lines up grapes, cheese slices, and some crackers on the plates, and then pours a little bit of lemonade into three pink cups. There are applesauce containers too, so she feels around the bottom of the basket until she finds the little matching spoons. When she has everything ready, she looks to the swings again.

Standing next to Oliver is a woman, a very beautiful woman with long dark hair. She’s tall, nearly Oliver’s height, and dressed in running gear - black shorts and a hot pink tank top over a black sports bra. Oliver is still pushing Sara, but he leans over to listen to what the woman is saying.

Felicity freezes. Her whole body goes numb in that moment. This is Oliver’s alternate future: a new beginning, another chance with someone else. She knows she should resign herself to it. It shouldn’t upset her. Besides, the attention Oliver is paying the woman is merely polite. Felicity knows from good experience what a focused Oliver looks like, and this isn’t it. Still, when he smiles at the woman and nods encouragingly, Felicity feels…

Annoyed. What does this woman think she’s doing? This is a man pushing a small child on the swings. If anything should telegraph a _taken_ message, that’s it. She stares at the brunette, willing her to move along. Stop bothering Oliver. He’s a busy man - the _mayor_ , for god’s sake. Leave him alone.

Oliver doesn’t look bothered, though. As the woman talks, she gestures with her arms, and he pays closer attention. He’s pushing Sara one handed now, and the woman reaches out and puts a hand on his forearm. Felicity gets to her feet.

Sara yells, “An Fliss,”  and waves as she approaches them, but Felicity moves behind her towards Oliver and the woman.

“Felicity,” Oliver says with a smile, “this is Andrea Daniels. She’s the executive director of STAR Women, a local advocacy group. She has the idea for the city to schedule a marathon as a fundraiser to help rebuild affordable housing to replace what was destroyed. Andrea, this is Felicity Smoak, my--”

“I know who you are.” Andrea puts her hand forward and shakes Felicity’s with force. “Nice to meet you.”

“Ms. Daniels,” Felicity says. Up close the woman is even more stunning. She’s wearing almost no makeup, but between her high cheekbones, her large, green eyes and tanned skin, she’s a total nightmare. A succubus - the hungry kind confronted with a delicious mayoral snack opportunity. “That’s great. What made you think of it?”

Andrea smiles, revealing deep dimples. “The women of my group were watching one of Mr. Queen’s speeches--”

“--Oliver,” Oliver says. “Please, no formality.” He ducks his head like he’s bashful. _Like he’s bashful_.

Andrea nods. “One of _Oliver’s_ speeches, and we all agreed he looked like a runner. His posture is excellent - he looks like he runs for a living.”

“I think you could say running has saved his life,” Felicity says, “more than once.” She gives him a conspiratorial look, but he shakes his head at her.

“And how long can we expect to have a young, single, photogenic mayor?” Andrea says. “The STAR women thought if we could persuade him to be the face of the marathon, it would be sure to raise money. All that was left to do was ask him.” She laughs, amused at her own brilliance, and traces her talons on his forearm again. “So will you? Homelessness in Star City is disproportionately female, and you’re already the face of the new city. Would you be our hero?”

Our. Hero.

Before she realizes she doing it, Felicity presses herself into Oliver’s side and stretches her hand across his abdomen. “It does sound like a worthy cause: desperate women,” she says. She pats her hand down the ridges there and slides the tips of her fingers into the band of his dress pants. “Oliver has a very busy schedule, but I’m sure he’ll give it serious consideration. He’s generous like that.”

Oliver narrows his eyes at her and puts his hand over hers, drawing it out of his waistband. He drops it at his side and gives Andrea a diplomatic smile. “I will,” he says. “I like the idea a lot - the _city_ being its own hero. Do you have a card you can give me?”

Andrea whips one out from a miniscule pocket in her shorts and pushes it into his hand. The card features her face as the background graphic. She turns it over and writes on the back. “Here’s my other cellphone number, just in case you can’t reach me at the one on the front,” Andrea says. “I’m very busy, but I always make time for important...causes.” She gives Felicity another once over, raising an eyebrow. “Call me anytime.”

Oliver says nothing, and after an awkward moment, Andrea excuses herself and jogs off.

“What was that?” Oliver asks. He grabs Sara’s swing and brings it to a stop.

“Nothing,” she says. “I didn’t like her. Did you like her?” It’s all she can do not to pull that card from his hand and rip it into a thousand pieces. “I suppose her idea has some merit.”

“It’s a great idea,” he says. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Oh, you mean… Well, people think celebrities belong to them. There’s an over-familiarity that’s encroaching. I think you should discourage that from the very beginning of your term.”

Oliver hauls Sara out of the swing. “An Fliss made you a snack,” he says. He kisses her on the head, puts her down on the ground, and points.

Sara looks like she might make more swinging the hill she’s willing to die on today, so Felicity says, “There’s cheese.” Sara thinks it over and makes a beeline for the blanket.

“Do you know the meaning of the expression, ‘Fish or cut bait’?” Oliver asks. There’s a quietness to him that makes her wary.

“Yeess,” she says slowly.

“Think about it some more,” he says.

She decides to tough it out. “In what way?”

“In the way that we’re broken up but you still want to put your hands down my pants in front of other women.” He puts his hands on his hips.  “What was that about?”

“I didn’t put my hands down your pants,” she says. “I patted your chest. In a friendly way. Like friends.”

Oliver stares at her for a moment, and she lifts her chin. “I tell you what,” he says. He walks over and picks the bottle of vitamins off the ground. “Take these, and we’ll call it even.”

“Call it even?”

“Yes, eat two gummies a day, and I’ll let you mark your territory all you want.”

“Mark my territory?” she gives a high pitched laugh.

“Sure,” he says. “It’s not like I’ve ever had a problem with you holding my cock before. Knock yourself out. Just take the vitamins.” He opens the bottle, dumps one in his palm, and feeds it to her, holding her gaze with his.

She chews it grimly.

“One more thing,” Oliver says, walking backwards toward Sara and the picnic blanket, “I think you should be more patient with Palmer Tech. It’s your choice, of course, but they saw your potential and gave you the opportunity to use and develop it. That kind of leap of faith deserves a second chance. A third chance, even.”

She knows they’re not talking about Palmer Tech, but what can she say to that? It’s too generous. He is such a generous man. She swallows the gummy slowly and goes to the picnic basket to get more cheese because Sara has already ransacked all of the plates. As Felicity settles herself back on the ground, Oliver hands her the smoothie. She takes another long drink because he’s right. She has to get her strength back up for whatever lies ahead, and he’s still here and giving her what she needs to do that.

She’s never been a stupid woman, and she isn’t going to start being one now. She doesn’t have the luxury.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have any interest in reading how I view Oliver and Felicity's relationship at this point, [here are my thoughts](http://fiacresgirl.tumblr.com/post/146261447709/thoughts-on-post-breakup-olicity). Thanks for reading! I appreciate any reader thoughts and reactions!


End file.
